


Upon Further Examination

by EstherShapiro



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Fingerfucking, First Time, Fucking, I actually had to do research for john to get his pants off, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Playing Doctor, Voyeurism, doctor!kink, first person POV, he was relieved, man it is hard not to type fucking when fucking is what i mean, mild roleplaying, smut with feelings, so was sherlock, victorian!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstherShapiro/pseuds/EstherShapiro
Summary: "Do you," I steeled myself, knowing the implication would be irrevocable, "Do you have need of me, Holmes, at this late hour?"Holmes' hip twitched, and he addressed me in a sinfully low tone."I have need of my doctor."





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this? This is plain and simple Victorian-era johnlock smut. Filthy smut with fun flowery language. And to be painfully honest, it shares a few similarities with Strings, a story I wrote some time ago.
> 
> It's been ages since I've had any johnlock fic to share, so if anyone has subscribed to me hoping for more and long since forgotten, I humbly lay this meager offering at your feet.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy series 4/new content hell, and I look forward to all the new works it will inspire! Happy New Year!

I had scarcely been restored to Baker Street two weeks before I lost my patience with Holmes' nighttime bumping and clattering. In our previous cohabitation, I had come to expect at all hours the frequent sounds of pacing, the screeches of violin, and even the occasional explosion. As of late however, I could barely shut an eye without a thumping sound rattling through the walls. It would often stop, for a time, although once my hope for silence would return, so would the ruckus.

I'd had quite enough, and mind made up, I burst into Holmes' bedroom to make my demand known. Although I'd interrupted many of Holmes' experiments over the span of our years together, the experiment I then found myself intruding upon was of a much different nature.

I had only a moment of shock to register the way Holmes' hand moved under his nightgown, the way the veins on his neck stood out, the shine of sweat on his brow, the way his back arched up off the mattress. Then he had seen me, and I whirled away in shame.

"Holmes," I called out, "I am... deeply sorry. If I had known you wished for privacy, I would not have... Well, I came for the noise, you see, and I... I should take my leave now."

My words were bumbled out so messily, they must have displayed how flustered I felt. I kept my gaze on the floor as I prepared to pull the door gently closed again, when Holmes raised his objection.

"Watson? It isn't necessary. That you take your leave."

I looked back up at him in surprise. He'd removed his hand from under his nightgown, but his rigidity was still apparent.

"You-you'd wish me to stay, then?"

Holmes smiled at me, and relaxed back into the cushions. 

"At the moment, I have no wish for privacy. If you'd be inclined to stay, that is."

The warm, inviting expression on his face was something I had, in my most private moments, imagined in my fervor to find satisfaction. In reality, although, I was still unsure where it might lead me.

"Do you," I steeled myself, knowing the implication would be irrevocable, "Do you have need of me, Holmes, at this late hour?"

Holmes' hip twitched, and he addressed me in a sinfully low tone.

"I have need of my doctor."

I drew a deep breath, then stepped inside the room and pressed the door until I felt the latch click. Only a few short steps, and I stood above where Holmes had stretched out before me.

"Can you... describe what need that might be?"

Holmes kept his gaze on me as his hand stole back underneath his nightgown, watched as my eyes followed the movements of his hand, as he gripped himself and resumed his movements. He spoke in a voice that was almost a whisper, indulgent in my attention.

"I'm experiencing a stirring, you see. A tension, of which I have not been able to find relief."

His movements were slow, but I was transfixed.

"And do you... wish me to examine you?" I offered shakily, the anticipation in my voice betraying me.

"If you think it best, Doctor."

Knowing my next words would not be mistaken, I looked Holmes in the eye as I spoke.

"Then I think it's best to proceed by... removing your garment, then, to ensure my examination is thorough."

Holmes' lips parted, and his arm went tense as he paused and squeezed himself. Then he gave a nod, pulled the nightgown over his head, and dropped it on the floor beside my feet.

He lay back down, letting his hands fall at his sides, and his member hovered stiffly over the dip of his belly. He watched me closely, waiting for me to commence.

"And where is it, that you feel this stirring?"

"At the very center of me," he vowed, and his hip gave another twitch, making his prick bob in the air.

"And what have you tried to relieve it?"

"I... My usual techniques for relaxation have proved ineffective, Doctor."

He seemed to be forcing his hands to remain at his sides, so I let my eyes slide up and down his body to reassure my permission.

"Perhaps a demonstration would be helpful," I suggested, though my voice was unmistakably hungry.

Holmes didn't reply, but slid his hand over to grip his prick in demonstration. As he pushed into his hand, the foreskin slid down to reveal the red tip of his cockhead, shiny with his arousal. I placed a fingertip there and traced circles around the slit, enjoying the way he gasped and trembled in response. 

I let my fingers drag up his torso, over a nipple that quickly stiffened as I rubbed it over again. I took it between my fingers, pinched and rolled it, then gave the same treatment to the other as Holmes' breath grew loud. His hand began moving faster as I plucked and rubbed at his nipples, marveling as they tightened under my attention.

"I can see the tension you speak of. We might have to explore different approaches to relaxation, if we're to find your relief."

Holmes slowed his hand a bit, seemingly willing to follow my direction. His eyes drifted down me, widening at where my own arousal pressed firmly against the placket of my trousers.

"It seems you also hold some... tension within you, Doctor."

"I have always been sympathetic to you, my dear Holmes," I smirked at him, a gesture of humor he appeared to enjoy, "Now, if we're to alleviate your tension, we will need to have care for that delicate skin of yours. Do you have some Vaseline at hand?"

Holmes reached out to the bedside table, producing a bottle of mineral oil from behind the large vase he typically kept flowers in. I crossed around to the foot of the bed, climbing up to kneel between his legs on the bed.

"Should you prefer I apply it to you, Holmes?"

Holmes bit his lip and nodded. His hand trembled as he spilled the oil into my palm, and I waited for him to set the bottle back down. His eyes back on mine, I wrapped my hand around his prick loosely, slicking his shaft. He inhaled sharply, and his hands clawed into the bedclothes beside him as his hips thrust up into my touch.

I kept my grip gentle, spreading the oil up over the tip and then back down, leading Holmes' hips to shake and shiver as I teased him.

"My Watson, my John," he groaned breathlessly, and I devoured the sight of him, desperate with pleasure.

"Shall I continue your examination, Holmes? I'm confident we can find the source of your tension."

Holmes shuddered as he called out, "Yes," his voice already hoarse with desire, and he spread his knees farther apart.

"Here," I said, tracing my fingers over his testicles, "Some of the tension is here, waiting for release." I gave them a gentle tug, and Holmes whimpered and shook in response.

I let a finger slide gently down into the crease of his buttocks, slipping it back and forth over the soft bud of flesh.

"Here, though. Here is the key. This little spot, right in the very center of you, ready to release all the pressure like a steam valve. Tell me, Holmes. Would you like me to pursue this treatment?"

I was enjoying this, keeping up the role of physician as I used my hands on him, stimulating his penis and his anus simultaneously. His body was open to me, legs spread wide and squirming, knees bending to give me more access.

Holmes seemed almost in a daze, taking a moment before opening his eyes and locking his gaze with mine.

"As always, I put myself entirely in your trust, John. We take care of one another, you and I."

The gratitude on his face was plain, and I felt it profoundly, grateful that I had returned to this home, to this life, with the man who knew me better than any other.

"Sherlock." I said his name softly as I pressed my finger into him, twisted it around, and pulled it back out. He didn't react strongly, just widened his eyes and held my gaze as I worked it in and out.

"John. Mm. I am not sure this... is... the key."

I shifted uncomfortably in my trousers, as my arousal had begun to feel almost resentful in its restraint.

"Trust me, love. I'll take care of you," I cooed. I slowed the pumping of my hand for a moment to press in a second finger, then stroked inside him and up until I found the rough little bump that made his whole body tremble.

"Doctor!" he exclaimed, and pressed down against my hand as I worked little circles inside him.

"Yes, there we are, so soft you are, the heat of you," I growled, my fingers pressing and pushing harder as his body shook in front of me. For a moment, I thought I had pushed him over the edge, but suddenly he scooted up the bed and away from me.

"Bare yourself, John," he said, without a hint of hesitance or indecision, "I want you to take me."

I displayed a lack of hesitation to match, tearing my shirt away so quickly I heard a few buttons clatter on the floor. I tore at the gusset ties on my trousers until they began to fall, then climbed out of them, up onto the bed and over Holmes.

He looked up at me with wonder, and no doubt I looked a wild thing, naked and eager to consume him. We both held still a moment, him no doubt cataloguing this moment in the palace of his mind, and I in amazement that the trust I saw in his eyes never wavered.

"This will change us," I whispered reverently, even as I knew there was already no turning back from the flood of my devotion for this man.

"John Watson, I have belonged to you from the day we met," he said simply, and I held back no longer.

His arms flung themselves around me as we embraced, and I kissed him with a passion previously unknown to me. His mouth was hesitant at first, unpracticed, but he welcomed my tongue in his mouth. As our kisses grew deeper, both his mouth and body moved more confidently with me. His hands grasped at my spine, then lower as he clutched my buttocks and pulled my hips flush against his.

"Enter me, John," he whispered into my ear, and I kissed and bit along his jaw until he writhed against me.

I sat back onto my heels, and planning my approach, I tugged his arse onto my lap. After a moment's more work, I'd tucked a pillow beneath his hips.

"The oil," I gestured at the table, and again he uncorked the bottle to pour into my hand before putting it back. I spread the slick liquid over my flushed prick, then slid a few fingers back into him, brushing over that spot before withdrawing. His impatient huff of breath and the way his legs flexed to draw me closer assured me I was not alone in my anticipation.

I kept one hand on the bed next to him as I used the other to position myself, and began to push. The resistance was more than I'd expected, and my cockhead had only just breached the rim of his hole when he gave a short gasp.

I stilled, but hesitated to withdraw.

"All right?" I asked, worried I had caused him pain.

His brow wrinkled, and he remarked, "It's a tight fit."

"It is. You were tight on my fingers too," I explained, "The muscle will relax. Slow, yes?"

"Slow," he agreed, and I began pressing myself farther in.

I would have liked to kiss him more in that moment, but our bodies were positioned in a way that wouldn't allow it, so I busied myself by stroking my hand up and down his body as I sheathed my cock deeper inside him. My thumb stroked over his nipple, still erect, and his chest rose up into my touch. I toyed with each of them, rubbing firmly, and his fingernails dug into my thighs.

At last I found myself buried fully within, and though the heat of him was maddening, I stilled myself. I grasped on to his member, tighter than before, and felt the skin of him slide against his flesh. He grew firmer, the foreskin now pulled taut to reveal the rosy head of his prick. I let my fingertips slip and dance over it, tracing the ridge, and he whimpered my name, gripping my thighs and grinding me harder into him.

"Sherlock," I groaned, and began to move by small increments. I could already feel the passion of my release stirring deep inside my gut, and though I knew affording myself some distraction would delay my arrival, I could not find it within me to focus on anything but the sensation and intensity of our bodies joined together.

"My John," he moaned, eyes squeezed shut, and his body thrust against mine, our pace turning frantic. I shoved my good knee up farther underneath him, and drew his leg up against my shoulder, holding it tight against me as I thrust and rolled my hips against him. The bed posts thumped against the wall as I reamed him, and the sounds that rolled from his tongue were no longer words.

I held my breath as I buried myself over and over until my passion rose like a wave and crashed over me, leaving me shattered. I felt the warm slickness of my release deep inside him, and I gave a few more thrusts to savor the texture before going still.

He looked up at me, his hands still tight on my thighs as though reluctant to release me. I was still firm within him, for the moment. I set my hand to working his prick, and after a few strokes, his hand grasped over mine and guided it faster.

After a few a few dozen tight pumps of his length, his climax surged through him. I felt his body tighten around me, his back arched and his eyes clenched shut. His mouth dropped open in a low groan, and I have never seen a more beautiful lover.

His body relaxed in little hitches and spasms, until he lay slack and dazed before me. I withdrew myself carefully, and let both of my hands wander again, reveling in the softness of my skin against his.

"How now, have we eased your tension then?" I teased, and the smile that illuminated his features was undeniably filled with affection. He pulled me down to lay beside him, kissed me twice on the mouth and once on the cheek.

"My doctor. My brilliant John Watson. I am healed," he murmured contentedly.

"And the procedure... it did not cause you too much discomfort, I pray?" I quipped, my mind swimming in the warmth of our new dynamic.

"Your bedside manner is incredibly attentive, Doctor," he hummed, and held me tighter.

"However, I believe we should discuss a long-term treatment plan," he professed, in his tone of sound logic and sensibility, "It would be most convenient if you often remained close by my bedside, to ensure my well-being."

"We're going to need more pillows," I reasoned, and bundled the blankets around us. We slept soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, that's that. Hope it was a fun read for you! Corrections are always welcome if I've gotten anything wrong or failed to tag something I should, and criticism that comes from a helpful place is appreciated.
> 
> Feel free to say hi on tumblr @theboringteacher and chit chat about any old thing! I love making new friends!
> 
> Next, I'm trying to plan out a long Check Please! fic, so keep your eye out for that sometime in the next decade, wink wink.


End file.
